


Untitled Hugging Scenelet

by orphan_account



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-19
Updated: 2009-03-19
Packaged: 2017-10-02 19:00:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer needs a hug.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled Hugging Scenelet

**Author's Note:**

> This was totally supposed to be the beginning of this ridiculously fluffy bunny I was working with, which was Spencer/Brendon and had to do with excessive amounts of cuddles. That bunny went through three or four different incarnations and never went anywhere. This scenelet was supposed to be the first scene of the version I eventually settled on, but…never went anywhere. So now it's pretty much gen, with vague shippy leanings. *shrug* Idk, you guys.
> 
> NOTE: Now with awesome [podfic](http://hermette.livejournal.com/298031.html?thread=14864431#t14864431) by pennyplainknits!

It starts...okay. It's really stupid how it starts.

 

They're on their first-ever headlining tour, and it's not even close to being the first time they've been away from home, and honestly life on a tour bus with his best friends in the world is hardly anything to cry about, and Spencer has no earthly idea why the homesickness suddenly hits him so hard.

  
It's weird, because there isn't any _trigger_ to it. It isn't like his mom suddenly calls out of nowhere, or like his mom suddenly _stops _calling out of nowhere, or like one of his sisters experiences some huge life milestone that he isn't around to mock them for. It's nothing—there's nothing. 

 

It's just Tuesday, and Spencer is so fucking homesick he could die.

 

And the thing is, this is where he should be clinging to Ryan like the weepy little girl he apparently is, because Ryan is his best friend and because Ryan is _home_—Ryan is every childhood memory Spencer has, practically, and he's right _here, _and, speaking in a strictly platonic sort of way, there is no one on this earth that loves Spencer more fiercely and devotedly than Ryan does, so he should totally be the answer to any persistent, aching, lonely sort of feelings Spencer has mysteriously developed. And. Okay, right, because maybe he _would _be, except....

 

What Spencer really wants—and he doesn't even care if this makes him a weepy little girl—what Spencer really wants is a _hug._ 

 

And yeah, Ryan would totally give him one, no problem, and it would be bony and pointy and a little ungainly but it would be genuine and heartfelt and probably really, really comforting. Spencer doesn't doubt that even for a second.

 

It's just. 

 

Well. They all sort of make good-natured fun of Brendon for his clinginess and his Personal Boundary Comprehension Issues, and his general human-blanket tendencies, but...Brendon gives the _best _hugs, okay? They're, like. Full-bodied and enthusiastic and really _ridiculously _earnest, and Spencer's maybe kind of a loser, but he just really _wants _one right now.

 

He dithers about it in his bunk for quite awhile, and then decides, _Fuck it._ If anybody on earth is going to mock him as mercilessly for this as he deserves, it certainly isn't going to be _Brendon._

 

So he gets up. He drags himself out of his bunk and tracks Brendon down in the back lounge, where he is—thankfully—momentarily alone. He's watching something epically boring on TV, and Spencer doesn't quite know what to say so he mostly just ends up standing there in the narrow aisle that constitutes the tour bus's answer to "floor space," shifting his weight from one foot to the other and watching Brendon watch TV.

 

It doesn't take long for Brendon to look up. 

 

"Hey," he says brightly, and gestures at the couch next to him. When Spencer doesn't join him, though, his smile falters and he starts to look worried. "Spence?"

 

Spencer chews on his lip for a second, then glances over his shoulder to make sure nobody is standing in the doorway. The doorway is empty, but he closes the door just in case. 

  
Brendon's head is tilted curiously when he looks back, his eyes wide and questioning, but he doesn't say anything, just waits for Spencer to explain himself.

 

"I..." and oh, god, Spencer is a fucktard of the highest order, seriously, he is so lame he can't even believe it, "Um. I, uh." He scowls, and stares awkwardly at the carpet for a second. 

 

"Spence?"

 

"Can I have a hug?" Spencer just sort of blurts it out all at once, like, in a rush, and it sounds every bit as stupid out loud as it sounded in his head, and he can seriously _feel _his face going up in flames, and he has no idea why he thought this was a good idea—

 

—and then Brendon is on his feet, his expression open and concerned, not hesitant or weirded-out at all, and he throws himself into one of those magical hugs of his without asking a single question about it or even showing the slightest hint of amusement, and Spencer sort of slouches until he can bury his face in the curve of Brendon's neck and just breathes.

 

Maybe the best part about Brendon's hugs is the way he gives himself up to them so completely. There's no uncomfortable distance or manly backslapping, there's no awkward shifting or twitching or aborted attempts to pull away. He just sort of wraps himself around you and hangs on like there's nowhere else on earth he has to be, and he will stay there all day long if you let him. It's one of the few times he seems genuinely quiet, genuinely content, and that makes it okay for Spencer to be quiet and content and hang on forever, too, and today, that is exactly what Spencer needs.

 

He doesn't know how long they stand there, or how it works the miracles it does, but Spencer feels like a different person by the time they finally let go. It's not that the homesickness is _gone, _exactly—it's just..._less, _now. A faded, wistful feeling, a little achy but totally manageable, and Spencer has Brendon to thank for it.

 

He's trying to figure out how to say that, how to thank him for that, but Brendon just beams at him and says, "I'm learning about rain forests on the Discovery Channel. Join me in my rain forest, Spencer Smith."

 

And just like that, it's like nothing ever happened. 

 

Spencer joins Brendon in his rain forest, and it is indeed epically boring, and right now, there is nowhere in the world Spencer would rather be.

 

—


End file.
